Protests
by Kurayami.no.Raito
Summary: Harry was a murderer. As was the rest of the wizarding world. Slight onesided DMHP. Deathfic.


This is my first story so be kind. Takes place sometime in the 6th year...pretty much AU starting from there.

Warnings: Contains a hint of shounen ai. Deathfic.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter.

For some reason, it seemed so empty. The Great Hall that is. So unbearably empty. Even the days seemed barren somehow with the Slytherins gone. Harry never thought he would actually miss Draco Malfoy. It seemed that when you suffer years of insults and threats you get use to them. He supposed the saying that you never knew what you had until it was gone was true.

It had been a gradual thing. So gradual that they hadn't even noticed it was happening until almost a third of the Slytherins were gone. Thinking back, Harry thought it was because everyone always tried their best to ignore them. By Christmas holidays, they were all gone. All except for Malfoy.

The entire Slytherin table was only occupied by one person. Malfoy. Harry purposely sat so he was facing away for the Slytherin table so when Malfoy came up to him, he was shocked to say the least. Malfoy leaned in from the back until they were almost cheek to cheek. He could never forget what Malfoy said that night. The last night he ever saw Malfoy, because by morning he was gone too.

For the rest of the year, saying "Slytherin" or anything related to it was taboo. Even the most adamant rule breakers didn't utter it. It was like saying Voldemort. But in some ways it was worse. People occasionally gossiped about him. If someone came to Hogwarts, they wouldn't even know Slytherins existed.

By the time school was over, it was even worse than when Cedric died. An entire house was gone and Hogwarts was in mourning. Harry personally found this funny. They were mourning for people they had always hated. Still, despite this, they couldn't not mourn. Simply because these people had grown up with them and always made school life more interesting.

Sometime in August, Harry was reading the Daily Prophet. That in itself wasn't unusual. What was unusual were his rapidly widening eyes at the cover story. "Mass suicides of the Slytherins." The front page was covered in a picture of Draco Malfoy. He would have thought it was a Muggle picture. His eyes were closed and he was completely still. He wasn't even breathing. He looked dead. Harry quickly read over the article. Evidently all the disappearing students were protesting. With every death, they wrote down something that had driven them to their deaths.

Harry glanced over the pictures, and rested his eyes on one where Snape was sobbing over Malfoy's corpse. His parent's were nowhere to be seen. Harry looked at the list of protests.

Pansy Parkinson: I die because of all those people who accuse us without proof, simply because we are "Dark Children"

Vincent Crabbe: I die because of all those who judge us before even knowing us because we are Slytherins.

Theodore Nott: I die because of all those hypocrites who take everything we do and say at face value, but defend others who do the same because they are not Slytherins.

Gregory Goyle: I die because of all the people out there who insult us for no true, logical reason even when they know we can hear, and even when it truly is not our fault.

Blaise Zabini: I die because of all you prats out there who condemn us for the wrongdoings of our ancestors whom we've never even met.

Millecent Bulstrode: I die because of those of you that think you're better than us because we're Slytherins and torture us because of it.

Draco Malfoy: I die because of all you bastards out there for killing us, because if you ever gave us even half a chance, we wouldn't have died.

The list went on and on. Things like "because you never even thought of protecting us" to "because you crushed our hopes before we even had any" to "because you hated us and made us hate ourselves." Harry read each and every one of them carefully. They were true. All of them. Harry cried, because now, he was a murderer, as was the rest of the wizarding world, of hundreds of children, teenagers, and futures.

"I don't regret anything Harry. But I just wanted to say, I love you Harry. I love you."


End file.
